Falling Awake
by infinitelyabundantwords
Summary: Erin Strauss survives the attempt on her life at the hands of the Replicator. But even after the case is closed, the nightmare hasn't ended for her yet. She's forced to face this as a setback on her road to recovery while trying to navigate a complex relationship, rebuild broken familial ties, & make decisions that will impact her future career.


**A/N:** So in recently watching Criminal Minds, I fell in love with the dynamic that was Strauss/Rossi. I was terribly saddened by what happened to Erin's character, and kind of feel like she deserved better than to go out the way she did. But C'est La Vie, that's why we have fanfiction right? Anyway, this story is just a way for me to adequately receive closure/find a happy place for Strauss/Rossi to exist. I'd love to hear any thoughts (either positive and/or negative) from fellow Rossi/Strauss shippers out there as this is my first attempt at a Criminal Minds fanfiction. Thanks, and enjoy!

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She was haunted by images of his face. He hovered in front of her eyes with barely an arm's length of space between them. His brown eyes glaring down at her menacingly and her stomach tumbled when the sly grin appeared across his thin lips. "You failed, Strauss. You had a second chance, and you failed. Just couldn't keep away from the bottle, could you?"

Erin opened her mouth, to argue, _I didn't fail. I could stay away. I stopped. But you wrecked all of that, you bastard. _But no words came out. Her mouth went dry, the words sticking in the back of her throat, scratching it raw. _I didn't fail, _she thought fiercely, willing her lips to move in tandem with the words. _I didn't fail. I didn't…fail._

"Your husband tried to save you," Curtis continued, his words dripping with spite. "But it was too much for Bill. All of the setbacks. All of your _failures_."

_I. Didn't. Fail._ She thinks determinedly, her jaw clenching painfully while she struggles to vocalize the words.

"It was too hard for him to defend you…especially when it started to affect your kids."

Her heart raced when he mentioned her kids. The muscles in her arms tensed as she urged them to shove him away, claw at his face, rip out his heart. Any of those options were better than listening to this sadist remind her that she couldn't even manage to stay sober for them. But her arms felt like lead, weight her down. They stayed pinned at her side.

She opened her mouth to scream _shut up shut up, you evil bastard, you shut up_, but only a mere whisper floated out.

Curtis could sense her frustration, and laughed hollowly. He was outwardly mocking her now.

_Shut up you, evil son of a bitch, shut up, you don't get to laugh. You don't deserve to._

"Oh Strauss, did you _really_ think you'd make it out on the other side? Did you _really_ think your kids would be proud of their drunken Mommy?"

_You BASTARD! _The voice in her head was now screaming as hot tears prickled the back of her eyes. Her throat constricted with emotions, those words burning in her throat. _You evil son of a bitch, I will kill you. I will kill you._

"You're a failure in every sense, Strauss. You failed yourself. Your kids. Your marriage. Even your career. Do you really think the BAU will welcome you back now? You're over. You have nothing. Nobody."

Now the tears will falling freely, her sobs strangling her as Curtis hit every single one of her weaknesses, and made his case in regards to her failures. She squeezed her eyes shut; silently praying he'd dissolve into thin air. That he could leave her in peace with the many regrets that took up space on her personal record. He was right. She was a failure. The word popped up on the back of her eyelids, running across them like a never ending marquee. _Failure. Failure. Failure._

_STOP! STOP! STOP! _She wailed inwardly trying to move her heavy arms that wouldn't budge from her sides. After several seconds of repetition the word finally passed through her lips. Her tone was coarse and unfamiliar. The weight lifted from her arms, and she thrashed about. She was going to kill Curtis. Reach for his face; tear that mocking grin right off so she'd never have to see it again.

She blindly swiped at the air in front of her, knowing he was in reach. Her fist clenched nothingness. The air passed through her fingers. Her other hand extended, and she violently began swatting at thin air, eyes still shut, she knew she'd have to open them in order to find him. He hadn't disappeared just yet. He was there. She could hear the hollowness of his laughter.

Erin stood up from her seat, and lunged towards the maniacal sounds of amusement coming from Curtis. She wanted to watch her fingers peel off his skin. She wanted to see the damage she'd wrought onto him. There was no difference than the damage he'd inflicted upon her and her sobriety.

Her stomach was tumbling again as she leapt in midair with no landing point in sight. Then there was a sudden jolt that rocked her core, her eyes fluttered open, and Erin was staring up at the darkened outline of a tiled ceiling.

The frantic beating of her heart began slowing, the tears that now lined both of her cheeks had ceased, and she tried to catch her breath. A methodic beeping to her left captured her attention first. She turned her head, instantly growing dizzy from the sudden movement. When the sensation dissipated it didn't take her long to deduce from the heart monitor beside her bed, and the IV in the crook of her arm that was in the hospital. Judging by the lack of overhead lighting, it must have been night time.

She slowly turned her head over her other shoulder, to see if there was a window that would enable her to confirm this fact. Not only did she affirm this, but she made a new development in the process. Just a mere few feet away, David Rossi leaned forward in one of the armchairs, his head nodding and eyelids drooping as he battled off sleep.

Judging from the faint light coming from outside the window, she guessed it was nearly morning. Had Rossi sat Vigil by her bedside all night? She really hoped he hadn't, especially when it didn't take a genius to figure out why she was in here.

Her stomach ached in a way that teetered on the edge of pain and squeamishness. And the rawness in her throat was no doubt from the tube they most likely inserted upon her admittance. There was a painful throbbing behind her eyes, a sensation she hadn't felt in a little over a year, and one she silently promised herself that she never wanted to feel again.

Yet here she was. In the hospital following another stumble off the wagon, another sensation of feeling violated at unknowingly having her stomach pumped free of toxins. A heat washed over her face, and she tightly closed her eyes to quell the tears threatening to fall as Curtis' words ring true through her head.

_You're a failure in every sense, Strauss. You failed yourself…your kids…your husband…your career._

"Shut up," She muttered through clenched teeth.

_It was only a dream_. She thought insistently, needing to convince herself that the nightmare wouldn't bleed into her life. _Only a dream…nothing more. But how…how did you end up…how are you _here?

Those were the fears that took hold of her. Her lack of memory of whatever accident that landed her in the hospital was terrifying to an almost paralyzing degree. It hadn't been…she hadn't touched the stuff…did she? The familiar aches and pains flaring up throughout her body suggested otherwise. She already knew the answer to her own question without having to look elsewhere for confirmation.

She scooted further down the bed, trying to disappear underneath the thin cotton blankets, hoping this was just the second layer to her subconscious. Yes, a companion dream that paired nicely (in a horrific sense) with the first. That's all this was. Maybe if she just lied down, and pretended to sleep nothing could harm her. Maybe then she'd be able to fully wake up.

But as she shifted, so did the plastic lining on top of the mattress, suddenly making Rossi aware of her conscious presence. And she was forced to hear him exhale her name with deep veneration, "Strauss."

She opened her eyes only a fraction of an inch, watching him cautiously pace towards her bed. Tilting her head back so she could read his face, Erin noticed his brown eyes seemed brighter and full of warmth. Her heat beat started picking up its pace again. His present expression was a stark contrast to his usually narrowed or irritated gaze she was accustomed to seeing.

His eyes swept over his lounging figure and she was certain he was studying her for any signs of immediate distress or concern. It made her stomach churn with unnecessary nerves, and Erin tugged the blankets up to cover her chest and the other parts of her body the thin hospital gown accentuated. She felt a pinch in her arm as the IV twisted from the motion and she grunted in response.

"You're awake," He stated evenly, although his relief was easily discernable.

She tensed upon realizing she wasn't lucky enough for this to be happening in her head. Deciding she couldn't just sit there mutely and be reactionary, Erin spoke up.

"So…" She paused, to clear the scratchy quality in her voice before continuing, "…so are you it seems." She frowned, still a bit puzzled by her surroundings following her rather vivid dream, "What…happened?"

David tentatively perched on the mattress, near the foot of her bed. His posture was straightened, hands folded neatly in his lap. If she was worried this moment might feel intimate, he was certainly doing his best to assuage her unspoken fears. Looking at her grimly he asked, "What do you remember?"

"I uh…" Erin blinked a couple of times, her eyes sweeping across the room as if taking in the more minute details of the room might help her piece everything together. But all she could think about were the horrors she'd been forced to face in her dream. All of the things her subconscious menacingly provoked her with. "Was it Curtis?" Her gaze landed on him again, brow lifted in question as she finished her thought. "Was _he_ the Replicator?"

David nodded mutely.

She felt a shiver erupt through her entire body. So it wasn't just a dream. Her nightmare had been what, reality? A retelling of the real story while she lay unconscious in her hospital bed? Erin felt dizzy as her mind started to piece together the events of _that_ night.

And the worst part of it all was that Curtis was right._ You did fail. _She could hear him sneering triumphantly while she saw an image of herself kneeling in front of the hotel's mini bar, hands shaking as she twisted open the countless bottles of wine, vodka, rum. Had there been anything else? Probably. But the details of it didn't matter. All that mattered was that she was _here_ again. In a hospital bed, following another gastric lavage, the last place she swore she'd ever be.

_All that progress wasted. On what? On you. You're_ here_ again? You haven't been _here_ since Bill mailed you the divorce proceedings. All of that progress you made erased the moment you wagered on vodka instead of a bullet. You should have taken the bullet. You really failed this time, Erin._

Her thoughts continued swirling round and round like a demented carousal full of self-loathing and defeat. Erin bit on her lower lip until it went numb.

She had fallen off the wagon. Not once, twice, but three times. And all of her hard work, all of the progress she made for a year evaporated without a trace. She could blame Curtis. She could make him just another scapegoat in the long list she created during the course of her addiction. But what difference would it really make? How would blaming him make her feel any better about this situation?

The facts were simple. She could have chosen the bullet, but instead she took a far deadlier poison. One that had real power to kill her long after Curtis' attempt on her life.

Squeezing her eyes shut at this notion, Erin tried to sit up, grimacing as the pounding in her head intensified and then freezing whenever a wave of nausea rocked the short lived calmness in her stomach.

"Strauss?" The mattress creaked as he leaned forward to steady her.

She held her breath, waiting for it to pass. "I'm fine," She remarked stiffly, holding up a hand for him to sit back whenever she could hear him move once more. After a slow exhalation she finally relaxed back against the pillows before remarking sardonically, "It's not like this is my first time waking up in the hospital. And given my success rate with sobriety, I'm sure it won't be my last."

"Erin."

The gentle trepidation in his utterance of her first name sent another chill down her spine. Erin fused her lips together, and cast her gaze out the window. He only used her first name a handful of times. It had always been in those more tender moments they shared, which were like sighting a rare bird. One second he would steal Erin's attention with a reassuring smile or a pat on the shoulder, the next he'd be chastising her loyalty to the BAU, and she wondered if all those intimate details were nothing more than her own imaginings.

This was yet another appearance of his gentleness to add to her list that spanned the course of several years.

"This time, it wasn't your fault," He insisted.

She remained silent.

David continued evenly, "Curtis knew about your personal history. He knew all of your weaknesses, and how to effectively expose them. Your history with him is what allowed him to turn you into a victim so easily."

"I should have told him to shoot me," Erin muttered bitterly.

"No," He shook his head, leaning forward and placing his hand on top of her knee. "That's no way to think about this."

His touch drew her eyes back onto him, and she asked dimly, "Why not?"

"Because you wouldn't be sitting here, talking to me right now. You'd be down in the morgue in a plastic body bag." Squeezing her leg he tried to elevate her spirits by showcasing his genuine relief for this outcome over any hypothetical ones, "You're _alive_, Erin."

"What's the difference?" She shrugged, unaffected by the mild enthusiasm in his voice. "He's already killed one part of me. It would have been easier if he just finished what he started and took all of me to the grave."

She witnessed his concern transform into shock at her statement. His mouth opened and then closed, similarly to hers in the dream. Except, it didn't appear David had an idea of what he wanted to say. Lowering his gaze between them, he removed his hand from her leg. He countered in exasperation, "In all the years that I've known you, you've never taken the easier road. You've never given up. You've always faced difficulties head on, and found a way to overcome them."

"Maybe I've been doing things that way for too long. Maybe I'm tired of _that_ approach." Erin sighed heavily, sinking back down on the bed until she was halfway beneath the covers. She rolled over until her back faced him, concealing her reaction to the dull ache that grabbed hold of her insides.

She heard him stand, and then shuddered slightly whenever she felt him pull the blanket more snugly around her shoulders. "Or maybe you're just tired," He suggested, his hand cupping her arm for a fleeting moment. "Get some rest, Erin. I'll tell the rest of the team you're awake, but not ready for visitors just yet."

Erin nodded her left hand slowly crossing in front of her to pat the one he's resting on her other arm. The pads of her fingers brush along his calloused hands, silently showing her gratitude towards him. She's glad to know that there's some intimacy between them. But when he let go after only a few seconds, she can tell he's not pressing it too far.

She'd wear herself out if she confronts the true depth of her feelings for him now. If she faces the horrible almost truth that this, their hands skating across one another's, this conversation they just shared, could have been lost forever. If she allowed herself to think about all the hypotheticals and the missed opportunities as far as David Rossi is concerned, she'd surely collapsed into hysteria. And Erin Strauss wasn't about to let herself break down in front of the man who would discern vulnerability from a single look (or non-look).

He moved around the bed, and her eyes lazily lifted to take in his pause at the door. With his hand on the knob, he cast another glance over his shoulder. She could read the sadness in his face. Or was it guilt? Pity? Worry? Perhaps a culmination of them all? She couldn't differentiate them adequately enough to make a proper assessment. And maybe, another part of her just didn't want to try.

She didn't have the energy to be on her guard; to deflect each of his dissections of her mannerisms and responses under his behavioral microscope. Nor was she in the correct mind frame to do the same to him. With each passing second, she could feel the haziness of sleep coming over her once more. And the more she tried to fight it, to focus on David's face and stay with him, the hazier everything became. She waited for Curtis' maniacal expression to replace his, for the nightmare to pick up. But even through her heavy lids, Rossi's presence remained constant.

She wasn't sure if a restful sleep would even come, especially not after her latest night terror. But at least she'd be alone. At least she could reflect on what would happen next without having to worry about any external variables in this equation like Rossi. Because as far as Erin was concerned, the nightmare didn't end with Curtis' capture and her battle back towards life, but it was what would start to unfold for her next.


End file.
